Bad Luck's Leash
by divine one
Summary: BS have a history of fighting, making up, fighting... go figure. Spike is dealing with the aftermath of another round with Buffy.


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author - devona

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title - Bad Luck's Leash (1/1 songfic) 

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rating - R for a little bit of colourful language

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distribution - I'm soooo much about the sharing... but please, please, please let me know where it's going so i can visit it. 

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feedback - I'd like it -- I'd like it a lot, but please be gentle. Comments can be sent to: devylish@hotmail.com 

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disclaimer - BTVS and Spike belong to Joss W. and company. Also I do not own **Pearl Jam's **"Go", nor do I own, **Temple of the** **Dog**'s "Call Me A Dog"; love them all, but don't own any of them. They could sue me, but the words 'blood from a stone' come to mind. 

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spoilers - Ummm, nothing in particular

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ty's - J for the beta help

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notes - a songfic -- _sooo_ did not want to write one, but A) I couldn't stop my hands from running over the keys B) the song screamed SPIKE! In this world Buffy and Spike have a history of fighting, making up, fighting, making up, fighting... go figure. Spike is dealing with the aftermath of another round with Buffy.

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words of wisdom - **"The one absolutely unselfish friend that [wo]man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts [her], the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is [her] dog. A [wo]man's dog stands by [her] in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may he may be near his [mistress's] side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper [mistress] as if [s]he were a prince[ss]. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens."**

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Senator George Vest, 1870

BAD LUCK LEASH

Another fight with the Slayer tonight. She'd been as angry as, or perhaps angrier than, he'd ever seen her before. She'd even uninvited him from her home -- again. 

Standing there, just inside the doorway she'd looked at him with those beautiful, weary, old soul eyes of hers -- "We're not doing this anymore Spike. No you. No me. No you and me. Forget that anything ever happened between us."

"Buffy, luv," he'd leaned in until his head rested against the barrier that was keeping his hands off of her. She had flinched at his nearness and another flash of frustrated anger had slipped out of his mouth. "These attacks of conscience of yours are coming on 'too little too late'. I've already tasted you Slayer, and we both know you'll be at my crypt door tomorrow, begging for a lil'" he'd grabbed his cock, "bit o' Spike." 

Their eyes had dueled.

Softening his voice he'd pressed his hands against the invisible barrier she'd placed between them. "You need me Slayer. Why won't you just admit you need me? Let me love you." She'd turned on him then -- struck out verbally, blindly -- with an accuracy that bespoke a slayer's 'killer' instincts. 

"Spike, _I'd rather be with an animal _than soil myself with you again. The only thing I'll be doing tomorrow is trying to scrub my skin clean of the scent and touch of you." She'd smiled her slayer's smile, "you know, maybe that's my problem." She began to close the true door, "maybe I let you touch me because I got you confused with a dog. It won't happen again."

And she closed the door. 

Ice can drip from the Slayer's voice.

* * *

"Fuck!"

Back at his crypt, he threw his duster on the sarcophagus and ran his hands through his short hair. "Fuck!" Her words echoed through him like a nightmare. 'Rather be with a bloody animal!' He growled and felt his borrowed blood course through his veins. Stalking to his stereo he shuffled CD after CD until he found the one he wanted. 

Fangs bared, eyes yellow, he slipped the disc into the player and turned the volume up. As he paced, the desolate ballad began to resonate off of the cavernous tomb walls.

You call me a dog.

Well that's fair enough,

cause it ain't no use 

to pretend your wrong.

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I don't pretend to be what I'm not Slayer. I can't. I am an animal... a dog...

You call me out,

I can't hide any more,

I have no disguise

you can't see through.

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What I am is what you bleedin' well see! I tried to hide my feelings from 

you, but...

You say it's bad luck 

to have fallen for me.

What can I do 

to make it good for you?

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Slayer and Vampire...not exactly my fucking idea of the best of luck either! But at least I admit to having fallen. 'sblood, what more can I do to make you want me?

But you wore me out

like an old winter coat --

tryin' to be safe 

from the cold.

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You need me! -- You use me whenever you damn well want to. You know I'd destroy heaven and hell to protect you, and yet you keep pushing, and pulling, and ripping at the scars that hold me together...

ohhh but it's my turn

to throw the next stone;

I'll call you beautiful

if I call at all.

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You expect me to attack you now... it's my turn in this war we've undertaken. Well maybe if I hadn't seen that little smile of yours, or smelled the scent of your hair...

oooh, you call me a dog

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A Dog I am.

and you tell me I'm low 

cause I've slept on the floor,

and out in the woods 

with the beggars and the wolves

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If I could change the past... maybe... but I can't. What I am is everything I've done... I know that the stolen blood that fed my hunger is on your hands when you touch me... but I CAN'T CHANGE THAT!

you threw me out

cause I was begging for a bone

and I came home with a hand full of coal

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You take from me, and take of me, and offer me that smile and those eyes and then leave me alone...wanting more. Again.

ohhh but it's my turn

to throw the next stone,

I'll call you beautiful

if I call at all.

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Puncturing your neck and sucking the essence from it should be as easy for me as breathing is for you. I HAVE NO SOUL!! Yet --

eh, well it's my turn 

to call your bluff

I call you beautiful

oh leave it alone.

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If the hollow where my heart and soul should be aches this much, from just the sight of you -- I can't imagine... I don't want a soul!

yeaaaah, you call me a dog

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I'm just a dog...

and that's fair enough 

it doesn't bother me 

as long as you know

that bad luck will follow you

If . You . Keep . Me . On . A . Leash . And . You . Drag . Me . Along!

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Well Slayer, it doesn't bother me...go ahead! Call me a dog, but be forewarned... this dog's leashed to your heart. Wherever it goes...I follow... Guess you'll have to kill this dog if you don't want him at your back door begging for a bone.

He grabbed his jacket and left the crypt. 

He left to go and take his spot outside of Buffy's bedroom window.... to sit, and beg, and watch, and listen for his mistress's call.

The rest of the song echoed on in the empty room:

Well it's my turn

to throw the next stone 

I'll call you beautiful 

if I call at all.

Yeah, and when it's my turn

to call your bluff 

I'll call you beautiful

oh leave it alone.....

you call me a dog....

end

  
  



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